Who Are You
by muggleindenial28
Summary: He didn't belong here, he didn't belong anywhere. Massive spoilers all through season 4, specifically: S4x04 "Subject 9", S4x14 "The End of All Things", and S4x22 "Brave New World Part 2". Rated as a high T for language and sex. Please read and review:)


Who Are You?

_A/N: Hi everyone! So I know that I need to update "Girl With The Broken Smile" but I've had this one-shot buzzing around in my head forever. I actually started writing it in August but then forgot about it, it wasn't until a few days ago when I was transferring old files onto my new laptop that I rediscovered it. I'll warn you, this story is VERY VERY VERY angsty, but it does get fluffy in the end. If you've read any of any of my other fics, you should already know that my stories are rarely happy. Anyway I hope you like it and PLEASE do not be shy and leave a review, I live for all of your thoughts! This story takes place during/right after S4x04 "Subject 9" and then directly after S4x14 "The End of All Things" and then again the night after S4x22 "Brave New World Part 2". I do not own Fringe or "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons._

_Enjoy!_

She was here. Olivia was here. Once he saw her, he would know that everything was going to be okay. All he needed was just to see her face, to look in her eyes and see the woman he'd fallen in love with all those years ago staring back at him.

"_Peter, I love you." _The memory of Olivia's tension filled declaration flooded his senses as he stared out the hospital window. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret while he repeated the statement over and over in his head. _I should have told her, _Peter thought. In the moment he'd had his reasons of keeping it to himself. Saying "I love you" to her right before stepping into the machine wasn't what he'd wanted. His honest confession of emotion would have been no more than a final goodbye. Yet right there in that hospital he wanted nothing to take her into his arms and tell her. Tell her that he loved her with every fiber of his being, that he'd travel to the ends of both worlds and back for her. Hell, if she wanted, he would even tell her about the ring he'd been saving up for.

The door opened and instantly snapped him back into reality. As Olivia stepped into the room Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him; she was here, she was safe, she was alive, and they were going to be okay. However all of that shattered as soon as she opened her mouth;

"Who are you?"

The part of Peter's brain that hadn't quite caught up yet half expected Olivia to be kidding. In ten seconds she would crack that rare smile he loved so much and they would embrace and everything would be alright again. Unfortunately, Peter Bishop had always been too smart for his own good.

"Liv?" Her name escaped his lips as he searched her face desperately for any sign of recognition. His legs moved forward on their own accord, his stride became shaky as he made his way towards her. But rather than running to him with open arms that he had grown so used too, she stepped back, fear laced in her eyes.

No.

"Liv, please…" He nearly cried as his mind reeled. This wasn't right, this couldn't be right. The Olivia he knew only wore that expression when confronting the worst of anomalies. And it hit him right then, in her eyes, that's exactly what he was.

An anomaly.

He couldn't help himself, he stepped toward her again, quicker this time. He lost the will to control his arms as they reached for her, desperate to pull her into his embrace like her used to before… _Before, the machine._

_No. _

_No. _

_No._

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back." She said in a strained voice as she continued to back up with one arm raised in front of her body.

"'Livia, don't do this," He pleaded. "It's Peter, you know me! I swear on my mother's grave, you know me!" But even then he knew there was no chance that she would believe him. He moved closer until her back hit the wall.

"Please sir, you need to step back." She said forcefully, in full FBI agent mode now.

"No, I will not step back!" He snapped, feeling the last bit of rational thought leave his brain as a surge of anger coursed through his veins. He needed her to remember him, fuck the consequences. He ran those last few steps until he reached her and grasped her shoulders, shaking her slightly, as if that would help her remember him.

"Get your hands off of me! I am a federal agent-" She sputtered before he cut her off.

"Your name is Olivia Grace Dunham, you grew up in Jacksonville Florida with your mom and sister until you were fourteen. Your real father painted your front door red even though it was against regulation at the military base where you lived but did it anyway because he claimed it was good luck. When you were nine you shot your step-father because he would hit you, your sister, and your mom. You have a seven year old niece named-" He rattled without a moment's hesitation until she cut him off.

"Stop it! I don't know you and you don't know me!" She yelled, tears in her eyes as she tried to convince him. Yet there was a slight quiver in her voice that alluded that she was also trying to convince herself. Peter knew he was scaring her but he didn't care, he just kept on going.

"You work with Doctor Walter Bishop in a basement lab in the Kresge Building at Harvard University; you pulled him out of Saint Claire's Mental Hospital almost three years ago because your former partner and lover John Scott was dying from an unknown synthetic compound! You wanna know how or why I know these things?" He shook her shoulders a bit harder, tears streaming down both of their faces now.

"Because you told them to me! Because you trusted me enough, loved me enough to let me in! Please, Olivia look at me!" He pleaded and in a last act of desperation, he brought his hand to her cheek and forced her to look directly into his eyes.

She screamed.

Everything was a blur after that. Hospital staff rushed in and pried Peter away from Olivia. He put up a fight, managing to give one of the nurses a bloody nose, until they had finally been able to restrain him and stab him in his right thigh with a strong sedative.

The last image he saw before the drugs took over was a very shaken and broken Olivia sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.

_Three months later_

After the horrific night that he'd had, all Peter Bishop wanted was to get completely and totally shit-faced-drunk. He needed to forget about Olivia's heartbroken expression more than he needed oxygen. After he'd left her standing there in the pouring rain, he'd gotten into his car and just drove. The destination? Who the fuck knew? As he drove onward, he flipped through the radio at random, determined to drown out the uncertainty of his current dilemma which rattled constantly in his head. It was only when he started paying attention to the lyrics wafting through the stereo that his previous idea of music took a turn for the worse.

"_But it was not your fault but mine,_

_And it was your heart on the line,_

_I really fucked it up this time,_

_Didn't I, my dear?_

_Didn't I, my dear."_

Olivia had been perfectly fine. She had a life, granted a lonely one, but a life none the less. She had seemed relatively happy… Before he'd snapped back into reality and turned her world upside down. Now she was confused and heartbroken all because Peter hadn't been man enough to let her go.

He really had fucked up this time.

After driving through what felt like the greater part of Massachusetts for hours, a neon sign blurring in the downpour caused him to finally stop the car. Even in a different timeline, his favorite old haunt was still standing. To the untrained eye, _Madigan's Tavern_ seemed like one of the dumpiest bars in Boston, yet Peter knew better. He quickly parked and hurried to escape the never ending rain as best he could.

Once he stepped inside, Peter was hit by a tidal wave of nostalgia. This place hasn't changed a bit, he thought to himself as he sat on one of the vacant stools placed at the bar. To say that _Madigan's _had a rustic appearance would be an understatement. The paint on the walls was chipped, the vinyl seat covers in the booths and on the stools were cracked, and the velvet on the wobbly pool table was practically threadbare. However, the crappiness of the old tavern was part of what made it great. Literally in another life, _Madigan's _was almost a home away from home for Peter. Before he left for Europe, he'd worked there as a bus boy and every Friday and Saturday night he'd play the old piano for tips. It took a little while, but eventually he had earned enough to buy himself a plane ticket, and of course it helped to be close to the owner's family.

"What'll ya have?" A familiar voice drawled.

Peter turned his attention back to the bar and nearly did a double take. Sure enough taking his order was the object of his adolescent fantasies, Ellie Simon. Ellie's uncle owned the bar and back when they were in high school (well, when she was in high school) and she bused tables with Peter. She'd been about his age with dirty blonde curly hair, hazel eyes, wide hips and a killer rack for a teenager. Naturally, his seventeen year old self had been absolutely smitten. In an act of impulse, the night before he left for Europe, he'd told her of the crush he'd been harboring for years; turned out that she felt the same. Peter and Ellie lost their virginities to each other that night in the backseat of his car; their whispers of sweet nothings and half-hearted promises fogging up the windows.

It hadn't worked out between them.

"Look, I haven't got all night. Are you gonna order or not?" She asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Yeah, er sorry. Scotch," He mumbled. As she turned to fix his drink, Peter couldn't help but to give her a once over. She looked good, the past sixteen years had been kind to her. She had just finished pouring his drink when he spoke again.

"Would you mind leaving the bottle?"

"Rough night?" She eyed him questioningly as she reluctantly placed it next to his tumbler.

"You could say that,"

"Woman troubles?"

"Put simply, yes."

"I take that it's complicated?"

"Unbelievably, calling it complicated would be the biggest understatement of the century." Peter chuckled without an ounce of humor in his voice.

"Do you love her?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question, do you love her or not?" Ellie pressed.

"More than she'll ever know," He sighed after a moment.

"Does she know how you feel?"

"Yeah,"

"Does she love you?"

He nodded.

"Then what's the problem?"

Peter took a swing of his scotch before speaking again.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"Try me,"

"Not a chance, you'd never believe me if I told you. Too fucked up,"

"Fair enough. However, now I believe it's my cue to kick you out." She smirked.

"Huh?"

"It's past three, time for me to close up shop,"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how late it actually was. How much do I owe you?" He asked as he fished out his wallet.  
"No charge, it's on the house,"

"Seriously? I always thought that was the kind of things that only happened in cheesy movies,"

"I'm gonna revoke the offer if you make fun of it," She warned.

"No, I'm not making fun of it, just wasn't something that I expected. That's all,"

"Relax, I'm just pulling your leg. In all seriousness though, I'm not gonna take your money."

"And why is that?

"Because I know a lost soul when I see one,"

All Peter could do was stare at the dirty floor as her words sunk in. Jesus, Ellie really hadn't changed a bit. Granted, she was a bit snarkier in this timeline, but that probably had something to do with the fact that it was past three in the morning. Yet looking back at him from across the bar was the same old girl he's pledged his adolescent love to when he was seventeen. One of the things that he had loved most about her was her ability to see things for what they actually were. She observed the little things with a keen eye and understood when no one else did. He suddenly felt a pang of regret of how he had treated her all those years ago. Maybe some good had come out of him being erased; in this timeline she never had to endure his sorry ass feeding her lies and broken promises of a future he'd known they'd never have. He honestly hoped that this time around she'd met someone who she deserved, someone who treated her well.

"You have a good eye," He said thickly after a moment. He needed to get out of there an had just started to put on his jacket when she spoke.

"Hey, I um, I never caught your name,"

"Peter Bishop,"

"Ellie, Ellie Simon," She shook his hand.

"It was nice to meet you, thanks for the drink." He said and he turned to leave.

"Peter?"

"Yup?"

"I really hope it all works out, you and your girl."

"If only hope could make miracles happen," Without another word, he left the grimy old tavern and ran to his car.

He'd only been driving for about five minutes when he pulled over.

Despite how heavy the storm had become, Peter stepped out of his car. Once he was outside he started pacing back and forth, effectively soaking himself to the bone within seconds. Logically, he knew that he shouldn't stay out there on the shoulder much longer, yet he couldn't bring himself to care. Then, something strange and animalistic deep in his brain took over. He fell to his knees, opened his mouth, and finally let what he'd been holding in for months.

"AAHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" He screamed into the torrential down pour until his throat felt raw.

He began to shake as heavy sobs wracked his already trembling body. There on the edge of the road, Peter finally came to terms with what he'd been denying for what seemed like his entire life. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong anywhere.

And he was never going home.

_One month later_

Peter made love to Olivia slowly that night. Cherishing and worshiping her body with every deep snap of his hips and every caress of his callused hands. Most of the tender gentleness he put into every thrust was an urgent attempt to communicate without words of how much she truly meant to him. The other part of the equation was due to the wonderfully earth-shattering news he'd received just that afternoon.

"_Peter, I'm pregnant."_ Olivia had told him in that tiny hospital room. With that glorious statement, Peter Bishop's life had irreversibly changed in ways he could scarcely imagine.

He was going to be a father.

"I love you," He whispered for possibly the millionth time that night into her collar bone.

"I love you," She murmured back into his neck.

For hours, 'I love you' had been the only words spoken between the two of them, other than the occasional moan of each other's name. Neither of them were particularly skilled with expressing their emotions with words, they didn't require extensive declarations or speeches to get across what they felt. The only verbal confirmation they needed were those three little words murmured when they really mattered. Even then, actions spoke louder anyway.

Slowly but surely the passion they had been building up all night had finally reached its peak. Their fingers intertwined against the pillows and the only sound that was to be heard as they fell over the edge together were their quite pants and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard.

Sometime later they were still in bed, however, they were still. Olivia gently ran her fingers through Peter's disheveled hair while his head rested on her middle. Even though he knew that she was only five or so weeks along and that it would be sometime before they could feel anything, Peter couldn't help but press his ear to her flat stomach where their child was slowly growing. _Their child,_ he smiled at the thought. It was at that perfect moment when Peter made his mind up about what he had been thinking about for a while.

"Liv?" He gently lifted his head slightly took look at her.

"Hmm?" She murmured sleepily, still stroking his hair.

He was going to do it, no backing out now. He kissed her stomach while his heart pounded a mile a minute in his ear.

"I, um, I don't really know how to say this,"

"What?" Her fingers halted and her eyes snapped open.

He took a deep breath.

"Marry me?"

At first she didn't react and Peter's heart raced a little faster.

"Yes," She whispered.

"Really?" His head snapped up completely.

She nodded.

And for that perfect little moment as Peter traveled up her body, kissing every part of her he could reach, all was right in the world.

At least for a little while.

_A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please make sure to leave a review even if you hated it! Also, slight side note, I need a beta so if anyone is interested, please let me know Like I said earlier, I should be posting chapter 5 of "Girl With the Broken Smile" soon. Thank you and please review!_


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